Whispers from the Forest
by Sorkari
Summary: According to local legend, there's some sort of creature that lurks in the forest at night. Some folks say it's to keep the children out of harm's way; others say it's a creature whose sole purpose is to protect the forest. Eren discovers that this so-called legend couldn't care less about either.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N:** so i sat down to write werewolf porn one night and somehow ended up with a multi chapter story leading up to it. i'm not quite sure how this happened ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯

* * *

Raindrops tapped a smooth, quiet rhythm against the windows, rivulets chasing one another down the nebulous glass. Eren passed the palm of his hand against the glass, smearing the moisture there, but he could only just barely see the road and surrounding forest beyond. The car jumped as it ascended the mountainside, wheels crunching against the gravel and cobblestone.

Nearly a decade had passed since he'd moved from Shiganshina, and with each passing building came the persistent flush of recognition. He spotted the old bookshop that he and his friends would often visit; he could have sworn that just yesterday, they were receiving the scolding of a lifetime for breaking one of the dusty old windows.

_You should come visit for the summer_, Armin had told him over the phone just a few months prior. _I'm tired of spending mine in the city_.

The idea, at that moment, was the most unappealing idea that Armin could have ever presented him with. Eren made a small, discontented noise in response, only for Armin to add cautiously, _maybe you could spice up that portfolio of yours with the forest, since all you've got so far are weddings and birthdays._

_But that's the point_, Eren huffed. Nevertheless, Armin spent a few more weeks poking and prodding until he was finally convinced to go.

Fog gradually consumed the glass around the edges, and as it slowly crept inwards, they turned into a small neighborhood. The faint, yet unmistakable outline of a large oak tree passed by. He sent a small warning message to Armin. He looked back towards the window, staring at his own reflection for a small while before the car came to a slow, torturous stop.

He stepped out into the rain with a quick thanks to the driver, dragging his duffel bag along with him. A brief flicker illuminated the murky sky above, accompanied shortly by the low rumble of thunder. For a moment, his skin prickled, unrelated to the rain, and only then did he realize the complete absence of rain in the city.

Following the curve of glossy cobblestone, Eren could see that Armin stood shivering on the porch, the door behind him held wide open. He hurried up the path and nearly slipped on the first uneven step of the porch.

"Maybe I should've warned you about the storm," Armin told him, voice barely audible over the next growl of thunder overhead. He offered a hand and added, "and about that first step."

Armin's hand was shockingly warm against his own. Cradled by the mellow glow of the light within, Eren could vaguely see the small grin on Armin's face. With a huff, Eren griped, "Yeah, well, it's a little too late for that."

Inside, several pictures and maps were hung on the walls, and on the counters and corner tables, an equally cluttered mess of trinkets. Armin led him to the fireplace, where a recently lit fire crackled quietly on, its flames lapping along the uneven edges of the logs placed there. He perched on the edge of a couch, against a few soft cushions, while Armin left to retrieve a towel.

From the small closet under the stairs, he could hear Armin say, "God, Eren, it's been so long since you've moved." He kicked the door shut behind him, rattling the few fairy lights that hung low from the railing above. "I want to say that so much has changed, but . . ."

"Literally nothing ever happens here," Eren finished for him.

Armin offered him the towel with a small laugh, "People still talk about that kid who stole a lighter five years ago, you know."

Despite his sour mood, Eren couldn't stop the smile that tugged insistently at the corners of his lips. Another brief flicker shined through the windows. He stared at the few oddly shaped rocks that lined the windowsill, and just outside, he could spot the beginnings of trees and underbrush.

"You packed really light," Armin pointed out after some time. "I seriously thought you'd bring your whole setup and everything."

Eren rest his hand on his duffel bag, a little sheepish when he started, "Ah, well . . ."

Armin pinned him an incredulous look. "What? No way."

"I didn't bring much! Just my old camera."

Seemingly dissatisfied, Armin rose from the couch and gestured Eren to follow. The staircase creaked with each step, the smooth, delicate patterns on the wood faintly highlighted by the twinkling glow of the fairy lights that twisted loosely around the railing. Upstairs, there were more picture frames, all of which depicted Armin and his late grandfather throughout his childhood. They stopped once they reached the first bedroom.

The bed, covered by a thick blanket and more pillows than Eren knew what to do with, was pushed up against the large window that overlooked the forest. Rivulets of rainwater raced down the glass, sinking past the branching leaves of the potted plants that sat along the windowsill and out of sight. The inky sky above complimented the rich navy blue of the sheets and pillowcases.

"Make yourself at home," Armin told him. "My room's right down the hall, if you ever get lonely."

The door creaked slowly shut behind him. Eren could faintly hear Armin's footsteps down the hall. Were it not for the rain, he would have felt horribly out of place. Silence was always uncomfortable nowadays; perhaps that was the effect of perpetually busy streets and rowdy neighbors. He set his duffel bag on the bed and shrugged off his jacket. Unsurprisingly, he found a few slightly oversized shirts and sweatpants in one of the rickety drawers under the bed.

There was a faint cry outside the window that was nearly drowned out by the rain. It was high-pitched, fleeting, and if Eren was occupied with something else, it most likely would have gone by unnoticed. He stepped over to the window, idly rolling up a dry shirt is his hands, and peered down towards the outskirts of the forest.

The underbrush disappeared past the thick, gnarled trunks of oak and into the inky black void of the forest. He stared at the beginning of a path off to the side that was shielded by the overhanging branches. For a while, he stared at the desolate entrance to the forest, half expecting each flash of lightning to reveal something that was hidden in the yawning expanse of darkness. Anticipation melted into something of vague discomfort, and he quickly pulled the shirt over his head and left the room.

A louder, more aggressive growl of thunder loomed over his shoulders, eliciting a brief shiver. He knocked once on Armin's door before opening it, and inside, Armin sat cross-legged at his desk. He swiveled around in his office chair, coming to an abrupt stop as the arm bumped against the desk.

"What's got you spooked?" Armin asked lightly.

Fairy lights twinkled from where they were hung above the windows, connecting at each corner in long, sweeping arcs. The final arc ended at the top of a bookshelf, where books of all different colors and sizes were stacked neatly against one another. A tall lamp in the corner of the room, also wrapped in fairy lights along the shaft, washed the room in a warm, yellow glow. It accentuated the rich reds and oranges of the woven blanket that covered the bed.

With a sigh of relief, Eren hopped onto Armin's bed and buried his face into the fluffy pillows. He mumbled through the material, "I got lonely."

"Yeah, right," Armin snorted. "It's the thunder, isn't it? It never storms over in the city."

Eren looked up towards the windows, which were shielded by faded mandala curtains. He couldn't quite put his thumb on exactly what bothered him more - the forest or the storm. Or maybe it wasn't as simple as either or; he considered the faint cry he heard somewhere in the forest that night, then pressed his face right back into the pillows with a defeated sigh.

"Sure," he relented.

* * *

On the corner of a street nearby, there was a small coffee shop. According to Armin, it was relatively new, and it was quickly becoming popular amongst the younger townsfolk. They decided to walk there, following the cobblestone path down into the main road, where most things available were located. Eren supposed that was one positive of living in a small town; everything - quite literally _everything_ \- was within walking distance.

They settled with their drinks at a small table near the entrance. Eren watched as a few kids scrambled past, their voices high, triumphant, until Armin asked him, "Remember when we would play in the forest when we were little?"

It seemed like forever ago that Eren and his adoptive sister would both show up at the Arlert household, practically begging Armin to come with them to the forest until he finally gave in. They spent several summers with the other neighborhood kids in the forest, primarily swimming in the river, sometimes even catching the bugs they would find in the underbrush nearby. Maybe, if he tried, he could find the same path they took down to the river every morning when they were kids.

Yet despite how often they spent playing in the river, Eren didn't recall ever venturing that far into the forest itself. He swirled what was left of his drink with his straw, a thoughtful hum in the back of his throat, before he shrugged and finally admitted, "I remember the river, if that's what you're asking."

Armin rolled his eyes. "Kind of, yeah." He bit his lip, then muttered, "You know, it wasn't long after you left that everyone else kind of started leaving, too."

"I don't blame them," Eren snorted. "I'm surprised you haven't left yet. Why even stay?"

Armin's eyes trailed downwards, staring blankly at his own drink as he contemplated the question. "Well," he started, "I like how quiet it is here. It's easier to focus. And revolving my books around the town legend has paid off pretty well, I'd say."

Growing up, Eren and Mikasa held two separate predictions: Armin would either become a librarian or one day own a bookstore similar to the one he'd frequent at Shiganshina. They even bet on it. And they were both at a loss as to who exactly owed money when Armin somehow turned around and published his own book instead.

The inspiration of these psychological horror books wasn't exactly well-known, but anyone who lived in Shiganshina for any notable period of time knew of the tale; some insatiable creature lurked the forest at night, devouring any intruders who ventured too far. The few witnesses who have encountered this creature all testified to the same detail - striking gray eyes and a pelt darker than the night itself.

But really, it was just a story to tell the children so they wouldn't sneak out at night. Eren had stopped caring about this tall-tale creature long before he left Shiganshina, but even so, he could never convince Mikasa or Armin to venture out at night with him.

"Hey, do you still believe in that weird monster thing in the forest?"

Armin seemed surprised by the question. An unsure noise left his lips, and he answered lamely, "I'm not sure."

Eren expected to share the same incredulous amusement with Armin at the mention of the creature, yet to his surprise, Armin's response sounded eerily cautious. "What do you mean?"

"I mean, we all kind of knew it wasn't real, you know?" Armin rest his head on one hand, the fingertips of the other tapping softly against the tabletop. "I just thought it'd be really cool to write about. Then I started snooping around. And when I talk to the older folks and I look through some of the books my grandpa hid in his bedroom, it gets a little harder to believe that it's just a story."

Armin ran his fingers through his shoulder-length hair, the thick length of his collar rising to cover what was exposed of his neck. Eren never understood how he managed with turtlenecks and jeans in the muggy summer heat. That was one thing about him that never changed. Another thing that never changed was the way he'd play with his hair when he was particularly anxious.

Eren prompted slowly, "Well, that thing's not supposed to come out during the day, right?"

"Right."

"I think I'll go out to one of the trails tomorrow or something. Probably snap a few pictures while I'm out there."

Armin seemed delighted by the idea.

* * *

While Armin had never actually ventured into the forest since he was a teenager, he still had a recommendation on what he considered the "best" hiking trail. It was revealed to Eren shortly before he left that the few hiking trails available had always been desolate in the past few years.

Eren said he wouldn't stray too far, but he was never good at sticking to his word. A few hours had passed as he walked along the path, his camera held ready in his hands along the entire way. He found that he didn't ultimately regret leaving his music player behind; the delicate calls of birds and the faint rustle of leaves above him with each passing breeze were more than enough.

In a lull between picture taking, he thought back to the night he arrived. There had been something so ominous about the forest then, even on the outskirts where, realistically, there would be nothing to harm him. Yet there was nothing in the present moment that set him on edge as it did that night. It was blissfully tranquil, and for a moment, he wondered where such an absurd legend sprouted from.

He strolled along in leisure, the few leaves that protruded from the underbrush gently brushing his leg as he walked by. He examined each photo until he landed on the most recent one: a patch of flowers he found cradled between two thin trees. He finally looked up from his camera, focusing only on the base of the trees where he would hopefully find more flowers to photograph.

Briefly, he considered the very beginning of his photography career. He was young, and extremely bored, and he took photos of _everything_ \- of bugs, of potted plants, of passersby he found amusing. It all started with the camera his parents used to document birthdays and holidays, until he finally convinced his mother to buy him the cheapest camera available at the corner store. The rest fell into place from there.

While each photo he took of the forest was not perfect, he was happy with them regardless. Long ago, when he was printing out his blurry photos and proudly showing them to his parents, he would have never expected to come this far.

At some point, he came across a tree with four long, jagged scratches along its bark. Eren traced his finger delicately along the edges of the outermost scratch. All four dug deeply into the tree, the smooth brown within contrasting harshly with the dull gray of the bark.

He took a few steps back, snapped a photo, and hurried down further along the path.

Soon, the path widened, and Eren finally discovered the river. Without a canopy of leaves above him, he could see the beginnings of sunset approaching, a soft orange melting gently into the strong blue of the sky. Just a few feet away, he spotted a man seated on the sandy edge of the river.

He had his feet kicking in the water, his hands splayed out at his sides. The faintest trace of paint was evident on his pale skin, with small smudges of blue and purple marring his oversized shirt. He looked up over his shoulder as Eren approached.

"Hey there!" Eren greeted brightly. "I didn't think I'd find anyone out here."

He answered in a low, smooth deadpan, "I didn't, either."

His eyes flicked down to the camera, then back up to Eren's face, and after a small pause, he made a motion to stand. Eren stumbled to explain, "Oh, this isn't - I was just taking pictures of the scenery and stuff. You're not in the way or anything."

Slowly, perhaps against his better judgement, the man settled back down on the sand. "You're a photographer?"

"I am! But I don't really do this type of thing." Eren let the camera go, allowing it to rest at his side. "I'm usually all about weddings and birthdays, you know?"

The man glanced back down at the water with a small hum. As Eren tentatively approached and settled next to him, he could see their rippling reflections amongst the glitter of the streaming water. Eren found himself entranced by the stretch of the man's neck and deliciously pronounced collarbones. He followed the movement of them as the man straightened and leaned back.

Eren fidgeted a bit, then asked, "So, uh. What're you doing out here?" At the exasperated look directed towards him, he quickly added, "Just wondering! Apparently, no one goes hiking anymore."

"No one's got the time."

". . . I guess not," Eren reluctantly agreed. With a growing discomfort in the wake of silence between them, Eren continued to ramble on, "Everyone used to hang out here when we were all kids. Back before my dad and I moved away. Haven't really had the time for hiking or swimming since we made it to the city, though. School, and all that."

The man graced him with another fleeting glance. "Why are you here, then?"

"I'm on vacation!"

"You bring your work with you on vacation?"

"This isn't work. All of this would just look way too out of place in my portfolio." Eren looked up at the sky, where the sun was settling ever so slowly over the crowns of the trees. "Everything planted in the city is just done for aesthetic purposes, but here, trees and flowers just . . . _exist,_ for their own sake and not ours." He paused, then added with a wistful sigh, "So I thought I'd take a few pictures while I'm here and hope that I don't forget again."

Beyond the whisper of the wind through the trees and the smooth flow of the river, the forest was silent. Eren glanced over once more and met the man's gaze. A nearly imperceptible trace of red was evident on his cheeks when he abruptly turned away and instead focused on his reflection in the water once more.

Eventually, he tentatively offered, "I come here to think." Prompted by Eren's thoughtful hum, he quietly continued, "I paint. But sometimes, inspiration's a bitch to catch, so I sit here for a while."

There were several questions that emerged on the tip of Eren's tongue for him to eagerly ask: where this man is from, where in town he frequents, what he paints, what colors he enjoys to work with the most. It was an impossibly laborious task to finally open his mouth to speak, distracted by pale skin and striking silver eyes, but the man abruptly stood and dusted off his shorts before he could utter a word.

"If you walk down along the river," he told Eren, avoiding his eyes, "you'll make it back just before the sun sets."

Eren could only watch as the man entered the forest from the path he had emerged from earlier. The shadows of the trees quickly swallowed him whole, and once again, Eren was alone.

* * *

For a few days, he returned to the river, choosing instead to enter directly on the other side of town rather than through the trail next to Armin's home. His camera was filled with several new photos as he traveled further down the river each time, but not once did he come across the man again. By the end of the week, he decided to spend the morning with Armin instead.

Eren was laying on Armin's bed, propped up on his elbows with his camera in his hands, going through each photo and deleting the few that didn't meet his standards. The insistent clacking of Armin typing away at his computer melted smoothy into the background. They sat in a comfortable silence long into the morning, until Eren finally came across the picture he took of the gashes against the tree bark.

"Hey, Armin?"

The typing came to a gradual stop. Armin turned the slightest bit. "Yeah?"

He stared at the gashes, at the way they curled over the edge and out of sight, and he tentatively prompted, "You never told me more about that forest monster thing."

"You never asked," Armin pointed out.

"Well, tell me about it."

Armin removed his glasses and set them down beside the keyboard. "Okay. It still kind of freaks me out, though." He swiveled around in his chair. "When I really think about it, I remember my grandpa told me a different version of the legend when I was little. Most old folks said that the creature ate people at night, but he told me that it wasn't actually a creature at all."

Eren continued to stare at the photo. At first, he assumed it to belong to a bear or whatnot, despite it being too deep, too harsh to belong to any bear. Perhaps, deep down, he knew that they didn't belong to a bear, but accepting that it belonged to some unknown entity was somehow more distressing.

"He used to talk about a spirit that would protect the trees," Armin explained softly, as if reminiscing the memory, "and, out of respect, we shouldn't bother it when we're not supposed to."

Eren rolled his eyes. "Are you sure he didn't just tell you that because you're a baby when it comes to creepy shit?"

"Well, I thought about it like that, too. Because, at this point, are we even really talking about the same legend?" He got up from his chair and approached the bookshelf. He said in a distracted murmur, "I couldn't decide if it was a monster or spirit, so I went looking around."

His finger ran down the spines of each book until he came across a particular hardcover book. Eren caught a glimpse of the faded text on its cover as it was pulled out, once printed in a bright, extravagant text that dimmed throughout the years. Armin plopped down on the bed, flipping quickly through the pages, and Eren dragged himself upwards to sit next to him.

"I found this when I finally got around to cleaning out Grandpa's old room. He kept it with his letters from Grandma. What seriously weirds me out is that this one's specific to Shiganshina."

On the left-hand side, there were long paragraphs written in small, significantly faded text. Next to it, some dark entity lingered on the paper, every feature of its torso smudged and distorted, its eyes impossibly large and vacant.

"The spirit that protects this forest is said to draw its power from the moon. And it stays as some sort of an omniscient entity unless there's a reason to manifest into a physical creature. It's . . . kind of hard to say whether it's a malevolent spirit or not."

As much as Eren wanted to read the text that Armin had been pointing to, it was nearly impossible to tear his eyes away from the entity drawn onto the page. Something about its hollow eyes tore into his very being, swallowing him as easily and as wholly as the shadows that engulfed the trees once the sunlight was gone.

"'The spirit does not do harm to those who enter the forest without malicious intent.' Which makes sense," Armin reasoned, thankfully closing the book and setting it aside, "because remember that one time Jean ran into the forest when his dad caught him smoking? He came back scared shitless, but he wasn't _harmed_ in any way." He paused, a soft, defeated noise issuing from the back of his throat. "You know, I tried asking him about it once. He acted . . . kind of weird about it."

Somehow, as if the entity had relinquished its hold on him, Eren was finally able to ask, "What do you mean?"

Armin glanced out the window towards the forest. His countenance was oddly blank, only contorting into a grim expression when he said, "He told me that whatever it was, it wasn't human."

Eren couldn't find it in himself to stare at the photo of the gashes any longer.


	2. Chapter 2

The forest around the trail next to Armin's home was denser, somehow. It wasn't very far down the trail when gnarled tree roots and thick undergrowth began to cut into the narrow path. While it made the hike more difficult, it also provided a few more photos for Eren to add to his collection. Maybe in dimmer lighting, or even at nighttime, it would perfectly depict a more ominous, otherworldly atmosphere.

One thing that Eren was looking for wasn't flowers or any animal in particular; during the late morning, when the sun was brighter and he was considerably braver, he decided he would investigate the gashes. His visits to the other trails were fruitless, leaving only this one, and to his surprise, he eventually found similar gashes on a couple of trees about an hour into his hike.

Not too far off the path, there were more gashes that were much lower to the ground and deeper than the initial ones. His mistake that day, he later realized, was venturing further further into the forest, using only the trail of gashes that he followed inwards as a point of reference to make his way back out. On his way, he took photos of each one, capturing the gradual progression from finely placed scratches to more frantic, mindless ones.

It was much darker this deep into the forest. He only spotted a thin lining of crimson on the last set of gashes he found when he inspected the photo. He looked upwards, met only by the thick canopy of branches and leaves. He stepped through a particularly thick patch of underbrush, the crunch of leaves and twigs deafening.

He made his way to the previous set of gashes, then barely found the ones before that. It slowly dawned on him after wandering aimlessly in search of the next few gashes that he was lost.

Every rustle of leaves and snap of twigs under his feet was as horrendously raucous in his ears as the sound of breaking glass. He looked around at each tree, at each bush and patch of wild grass, all of which melted together into one identical image regardless of which direction he went.

He realized that he was not lost, but _hopelessly_ lost.

He would berate himself if he could remember how to breathe first. He would call for help if his phone had a signal. All he could do, then, was push through the underbrush in a single direction until he found something. And - upon not finding anything for quite a while - start to hyperventilate.

Eventually, he tripped on a tree branch hidden beneath a few leaves and fell face-first into the ground. He breathlessly cursed out as he dragged himself up onto his knees.

"Are you lost?"

He flinched back with a sharp yelp. To his right, the man from the river was there, seated on a patch of leaves between two thick tree roots. Thin smears of red were visible on his cheek and the collar of his shirt.

Eren immediately blurted out, "How the hell did you get here?"

"I walked," he answered.

"You - you just - _walked_ out here?" Eren asked incredulously. "Just like that?"

"I live here, asshole."

Small patches of sunlight peeked through the leaves and stretched out over his smooth, pallid skin. He looked ethereal, almost, shrouded by the looming shadow of the forest, eyes still so stunningly bright. His back pressed against the tree in a languid slouch that miraculously helped to lift the tension from Eren's shoulders.

A small laugh left Eren's lips when he admitted, "Well, uh. I guess I'm . . . kind of lost, yeah. . . ."

"You're a little too far into the forest to just be kind of lost," he pointed out.

The furrow in his brow was gone, and on his lips was the slightest crook of a grin. Somehow, Eren wanted to laugh.

"Yeah, okay, sure." Eren rose to his feet, dusting off as much as he could from his clothes. "So you know the way out, right?"

"How'd you know?" he asked dryly, as if the question was painstakingly obvious. He also stood, and whatever discontentment that was in his voice disappeared when he said, "I'll show you where the river is."

Eren wordlessly followed him around the tree and back into the forest. For the first time that day, he could hear the wildlife call and sing to one another, hidden high in the trees and low in the depths of the underbrush. It was only then when he had someone to guide him that he took the time to take in the forest for what it was: surreal, breathtaking, and in its own solemn way, mystical.

A patch of wildflowers that he hadn't discovered near the hiking trails caught his eyes some ways off. He immediately reached for his camera at his hip, only to find that it was missing.

Upon the realization, he frantically started, "Hey, wait. My camera -"

Eren finally looked over to the man next to him. He was holding Eren's camera, switching slowly from one photo to the next. He stopped in his tracks, the faintest tone of wonder hidden in his voice as he said, "These are nice."

Maybe Eren should have been upset by the breach of privacy, but he couldn't help but bask in the rush in his chest that was elicited by the compliment. He took the camera when it was offered back to him, muttering, "Thanks."

Something remarkably soft resided in the man's eyes. They were a bright silver, lined by a thin ring of murky black, and for a moment, Eren couldn't breathe. For one painful, fleeting moment, they lingered there, enchanted by silver and cradled by birdcall. The world came crashing back in when the man continued onwards, completely unphased, while Eren struggled to get his legs moving again.

He walked a few steps ahead. For a long while, Eren itched to ask him all the questions that came to mind, but he didn't dare utter a word. There was a unique sort of tranquility in the comfortable silence that they fell into.

Eren watched as he stepped over every root and seamlessly weaved through each plant that obstructed their path. It was like he belonged there, forever engraved into the natural flower of the forest. Eren wondered how he managed to achieve such a miraculous feat.

He eventually asked, "Hey, uh. Do you -"

The man abruptly stopped. Eren stumbled and just barely managed to keep himself from walking into him. The man pinned him with those enrapturing eyes of his, brow quirked up the slightest bit at the question, and Eren helplessly spluttered, "Uh - do you - do you visit the town? At all? I mean - I just - I haven't really seen you around."

"No."

Taken aback by the curt response, Eren mumbled, "Oh. Well -"

"Shut up for a second." Nearby, Eren could hear the soft hiss of rushing water. The man continued, "Keep going that way and turn left when you reach the river."

Eren watched him retreat into the yawning depths of the forest. He wasn't quite sure whether he felt relief or loss.

* * *

Another thunderstorm washed over the land, and the following morning, Eren decided he would take a walk through town instead. He left late that morning with Armin, who decided he would finally take a break from his work. He made a point of not bringing his camera.

They followed the cobblestone path down through the small neighborhoods. Several large, overhanging trees spilled leaves over the cracked sidewalks, the shade they provided a blissful relief from the sun. Eventually, they arrived at what remained of an old ice cream shop a few streets down.

Armin was the one who stopped first. He neared the glass and peered between the boards that had been nailed over the windows. He reminisced the days when they were still in school together, laughed over how often they would frequent the shop with Mikasa and a few others from their class.

Nearly a decade ago, Eren stood in front of this same ice cream shop, drawn to it by its flashing lights and colorful displays against the windows. The last time he visited was with his mother. They were on their way home from the grocery store, and Eren was in charge of keeping the bread safe. His mother willingly stopped with him, and he got to order his favorite ice cream, and he completely overlooked how exhausted she seemed that day.

It wasn't long after that when she told him she was leaving.

"You okay?" Armin asked him after some time.

Long ago, there were no worries about what lurked in the forest, no worries about where he and his father were going, no worries over what he heard his parents whispering furiously about when they assumed he was asleep. There was no mystery in the forest beyond what the elders spoke of, absolutely no traces of anything amiss that would keep him awake at night; there was only a group of classmates who hung out near the ice cream shop on the days they didn't visit the river.

"Yeah."

They stopped for candy apples not too far away. Armin complained profusely about the apples somehow not being sweet enough, and for a while, Eren could forget the forest and his mother and simply enjoy the walk.

* * *

A few days passed before Armin returned to his work in full, grumbling something about his editor bothering him concerning the slow progress. He blamed Eren. They had a good laugh about it over breakfast, and then Eren left him alone at his desk to focus.

The sunlight burned against his face the moment he stepped out of the front door. In the late morning when the sun shines its brightest, there was an allure to the river, where he knew he would find relief from the heat in. Ultimately, he returned to his room to retrieve his swim trunks and canister before setting off to the river.

He would invite Armin if he wasn't busy. He would invite Mikasa, as well, if she could return his calls at that time of day. She was most likely still in class, or possibly at home preparing for the exams he knew were looming dangerously close by.

In more recent days, he yearned to be able to return with them both to the river and relive what had been left behind several years ago; Mikasa would linger on the sidelines, and Eren would try to splash her wish each cannonball, and Armin would panic whenever something touched his foot in the water. He debated calling her again that night.

Deep into the forest, at one of the smooth bends of the river where the water was at its calmest, he found the man from the forest. He sat at the edge with his feet in the water, just as he did when they first met. Eren lingered for a moment, shocked at the sudden discovery of a man he couldn't find no matter how hard he tried. He only realized he was staring when silver eyes turned to him.

Eren stuttered over every word that tried to come out of his mouth before he settled weakly, "Hi."

Eren neared the man and caught sight of the thin smile that pulled on the corners of his lips. He returned lightly, "Hi."

"Finding inspiration again?"

He returned his gaze to the water. "Something like that."

He didn't complain when Eren took the liberty to sit cross-legged next to him by the water. Eren listened to the birdcalls that seemed to grow more distant as time passed. He looked over to the man, and on his pallid skin were traces of yellow and red.

"What do you like to paint?" Eren asked him.

The man didn't immediately respond. He bit his lip, contemplated the question, his eyes never leaving his reflection against the water.

"Nature," he responded. A minute passed with Eren hanging on to every second, and he eventually elaborated, "Usually the animals. Deer, mostly. They pass by here often."

Eren looked over to the thin underbrush and trees that lined the sand across the river, seemingly expectant of finding something. "They do?"

The man followed his line of sight, then dryly pointed out, "When you're not so God damn loud, they are."

"Scare them?" Eren repeated, tone incredulous as if it were the most ridiculous thing he could have ever been accused of. "No way. I wouldn't hurt a fly." In an afterthought, he added, "Or a deer, for that matter."

A soft huff of laughter left the man's lips. It was barely audible over the trickle of water and the delicate whisper of the breeze. He quietly agreed, "You wouldn't, no."

It was difficult for Eren to tear his gaze away from the man next to him. He was still a solemn enigma, some ethereal being in Eren's mind who could just as easily be swept away by the wind as the leaves that skittered across the ground. It occurred to him that they haven't even properly introduced each other yet.

"Hey, I'm Eren, by the way."

"Levi," he responded.

"So, Levi," Eren started, eyeing the traces of paint on Levi's skin, "Do you ever show off your work anywhere? Like at an art show or something? A library, maybe?"

"No."

While short, the answer wasn't as cold as it had been before when they traveled through the forest together. Eren held his breath, then tentatively offered, "Well, there's a coffee shop in town that would love to display your art, I bet."

Levi fleetingly glanced down to his lips, then returned to his eyes to ask, "Was that a lame attempt at asking me out for coffee?"

Eren barely caught the flash of sharp canines when Levi spoke._ Fuck._ "That depends." He scratched the nape of his neck, careful to mask the anticipation he felt when he pressed, "Did it work?"

A low hum resonated from Levi's chest. "I don't like publicity, but I'll think about it."

Eren looked up at the sky, a few thin clouds trailing slowly near where the sun still hung high above the treetops. If it hadn't been so quiet, or if he hadn't been paying attention, he would have missed Levi's soft murmur, "I could just show you, though." There was something exquisitely delicate in his eyes when he said, "Sometime. I live upstream."

A wide, toothy grin spread across Eren's lips. "I'll dress up for the occasion and everything! I'll even bring my camera."

"No pictures. I'll throw your sorry ass out if you can't follow that rule."

Eren laughed at that, boisterous and careless and remarkably liberating, and Levi couldn't hold the same displeased furrow in his brow for very long after.

* * *

One thing that Eren didn't realize was missing when he moved into the city with his father were the stars.

In the city, the sky was empty, filled only with the moon, the occasional plane, and on rare nights, a field of blotchy clouds. Above the forest, the sky was illuminated by the stars, far too crowded for him to even begin counting them. The dull orange of the town's lights muffled with the deep blue of the sky, just barely visible over the tops of the trees.

Eren lingered out on the sidewalk when he emerged from the house to take out the trash. Distantly, he heard the clang of dishes in the sink, and down the road, the muffled voices of two passersby on their way home. Under the starry night sky was the trail next to Armin's house, curving just over the hill and disappearing under the thick blanket of trees and underbrush.

It wasn't that the forest itself frightened him, he realized; it was the fear of what was potentially in the forest, hidden under the shroud of night. While the origins and actual details of the legend remained enigmatic, one thing stood true amongst most of them - whatever lurked at night did not needlessly attack anyone who entered without malintent.

But what was his intent at that point? Whether it was to satiate his curiosity or if it was done purely for the alluring rush of adrenaline that often tagged closely behind fear, he wasn't quite sure. Regardless, he followed the narrow path into the forest.

While impossibly dark, the forest was still lively at night; both overhead and around him, the chirps of insects and rustle of rodents rummaging in the underbrush kept him company. It was an odd comfort, more so than the stars that peeked through the tree branches.

The moon cast a faint light on the pathway, illuminating the protruding bushes and tree roots just enough for Eren to narrowly avoid them. Behind him, the light of Armin's home still peeked through the path, swallowed nearly whole by the shadows. He wondered briefly if he should have brought his camera.

The patches above him that were littered with the stars grew days. The light of the moon had also ceased to shine on him, allowing the shadows of the trees to engulf him. Vaguely, he could make out the outline of trees around him, the light of Armin's home behind him that was just barely visible no longer present.

He could only hear the rush of his own heart in his chest. Then, suddenly, the sound of crunching leaves and twigs erupted somewhere off to his right. It took only a few moments for his eyes to adjust to the dimmer lighting; a silhouette stood out to him from between the trees, significantly darker than the shadows that surrounded it.

It was vaguely humanoid, standing impossibly still amongst the underbrush. There was something in the darkness that held him then, the gaping yawn of the void something he couldn't draw his eyes from, similar to the chains that held him to the creature that was drawn upon the page in Armin's book. In his ears, there was only the pounding of his heart, the rattle of his own shaky breath, until a distant voice finally reached him.

He slowly realized that it was Armin's voice that called to him. The frigid tendrils that had clasped around his heart abruptly let go and vanished the very moment he peered down the path and spotted the thick, yellow glow of the lantern. His head snapped back to the forest, but all he could see was one smooth, unmoving wall of darkness.

Armin held his lantern in one hand, the other reaching out to clasp Eren's shoulder. He gave Eren a light shove as he whispered harshly, "What are you doing out here?"

There was a slight tremor in his voice. Eren tried to apologize, but he could only manage a small, helpless noise. Around them, the moonlight started to peek through the trees again, its glow penetrating the canopy and lighting the trail once more. Faintly, the calls of the wild began, gradually increasing in volume.

"I just wanted to take a few pictures," Eren murmured. He peered around him at the strong outlines of trees and bushes, then over to the stars above. "I thought it'd be nice. . . ."

"You're so -" Armin cut himself off with a weak laugh. "Eren, you're ridiculous. I can't believe you." He huddled closer, glancing at the trees around him, and he quietly prompted, "Well? Are you gonna show me, then?"

There was the delicate sigh of relief that accompanied his words, his voice no longer trembling and unsure. In a way, Eren also felt relief, cradled by the warm, protective glow of the lantern.

"Ah - well, I . . ." Under Armin's expectant gaze, he admitted with a heavy sigh, "Turns out, I forgot to grab it on my way out. . . ."

The way back down the trail was silent, filled only by the wildlife, whatever tension that had built on his way in quickly draining back out. At some point, he heard Armin ask distantly, as if looking over his shoulder, "It's . . . actually not that bad in here, is it?"

The pit of his stomach flushed with cold dread at the thought of the silhouette between the trees. He could only answer with a brief hum.

* * *

They stopped by the library during their next walk through town. The cobblestone path they followed curved and led into the smooth marble staircase. They entered through the glass doors placed just behind two faded columns and an overhanging arch that cast a large shadow over them.

Armin led him to the very back of the library, where a few desks were placed before large, dusty windows. He spoke quietly, both out of respect and reminiscence, of the countless hours he spent at this desk while he researched for his first novel. He pointed out the selection of books just across from it, which had conveniently consisted mostly of folklore and other supernatural topics.

Eren was never one to read for pleasure, but on the rare occasion, he did take an interest in books that covered even the slightest of supernatural phenomena. He browsed through a couple of books before turning to ask Armin about where in this section had he found the most success. But Armin was no longer sitting at the desk, and after a quick glance around, Eren found him just a few bookshelves away.

Armin was talking to who Eren assumed was the librarian. He was tall, much taller than them both, with a thick jacket thrown loosely over his shoulders. He added the book he was holding to the stack of books he had in the cart behind him. Armin spoke to him with a nervous smile, a delicate trace of a blush high on his cheeks, and Eren didn't know what to make of it.

The librarian looked over to where Armin pointed. Eren gave him an awkward little wave. He heard Armin say, "He's been really interested in the forest lately."

When Armin led the librarian over, Eren held his hand out in greeting, saying, "I'm Eren! It's nice to meet you."

Only then, with his hand extended outwards, did he notice the thick knot that the librarian's jacket had been tied into where the adjacent arm was missing. He withdrew his hand as if he had been burned, blurting out, "Oh, I'm sorry!"

The librarian gave him a warm smile, amusement flashing in his eyes. "No harm done," he reassured. "My name is Erwin. It's nice to finally meet you."

Over Erwin's shoulder, he could see how Armin was fiddling with his hair, his gaze on them oddly expectant. Erwin gestured down the rows of bookshelves towards the entrance.

"Let's stop by my desk. We can talk there for a while."

The library was considerably empty. Eren could hear every footstep, every creak of the cart that Erwin pushed along with them, even breaths that he took. The glossy tabletop reflected the bright lights overhead, and behind the chairs and empty bookshelves was a door leading into the back room. Just before entering, Armin placed the books Erwin had picked out onto the shelves.

Eren tentatively took a seat in the chair that Erwin offered across from him. Erwin leaned against the arm rest, nudged a few miscellaneous papers aside, then turned to ask Eren, "So what's been bothering you lately?"

Eren bit his lip. Under Erwin's narrow, enigmatic eyes, he could only offer lamely, "The forest."

A low chuckle resonated from Erwin's chest. "Yes, but what about the forest bothers you?"

The night he wandered down the path into the forest resurfaced from the back of his mind. He considered the entity that stood between the trees and the void that loomed ominously over his shoulder, as if it were following every step he took and waiting for the right moment to swallow him whole. To think that, just before sunset, the forest would be a source of blissful tranquility was more confusing and infuriatingly contradictory than the legend itself.

"The creature that the legend talks about," Eren stated. "What is it, exactly? A monster? Some weird spirit? How has no one ever seen it before?"

"Let me tell you a story."

Armin emerged from the back room and joined them, rolling over to Eren's side on an office chair he found. Eren caught the way Armin's breath hitched at the warm smile Erwin gave him.

"A long time ago, the hunters would occasionally find a carcass in the forest. They said the wounds on these animals were nothing like anything they've seen before."

Briefly, Eren wondered why he didn't bring his camera. He could have shown Erwin the gashes that sank deeply enough to reveal the strong brown from within, that had traces of blood that lingered at its jagged corners and sometimes dripped down through the crevices of the bark. Maybe then, he would have the confirmation he both craved and dreaded - a claim from someone other than him that the gashes did not belong to the natural predators that inhabited the forest.

"But after every full moon, they'd find a handful of carcasses, not just the one. The hunters said they were all mutilated, but never actually eaten by any animal. They considered these to be sacrifices."

Eren's brow furrowed. "Sacrifices?"

"Well, that makes it sound more malicious than they actually viewed it as," Erwin explained, tone apologetic. "Hunters would always return with plenty to eat. People who wandered too far always made it back home safely. It's never been widely agreed on whether it was a creature or a spirit. All that was accepted by the townspeople was that something lurked in the forest at night, and very few have risked going in to find out what it is."

For a small while after Erwin spoke, Eren merely listened to the quiet, consistent ticking of the large clock hung high above them. He finally asked, "Is it true?"

Erwin quirked a brow upwards, asking him lightly in return, "Is it?"

"Do you believe it's true?" Eren huffed impatiently.

Erwin gave him a soft, knowing smile at the question. "I believe some of it is true and some isn't. The only way to find out is to investigate it yourself."


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N:** IT'S _TIME_

* * *

Under the watchful eye of the moon, Eren set off down the river, a skein of yarn in one hand and his camera in the other. There was a thrill to the thought of discovering what lay hidden in the forest at night, but he was unwilling to jump to a direct investigation of the gashes before first testing the extent of the truth in Erwin's telling of the legend.

He couldn't explain what exactly called to him from the forest. There was an inexplicable allure to the mystery of the creature, now more than ever, considering the apparent impunity in which he could investigate with; if what Erwin said was true, he would emerge from the forest unscathed. Armin was adamantly opposed to the next planned visit, however, until Eren agreed to venture down the river only.

The bends at which its river was most tranquil was virtually silent under the endless cries of wildlife. Eren soon spotted a patch of sand and underbrush that had recently been disturbed. The indents of several footprints were barely recognizable in the large patch of wet, clumped sand, as if something had emerged from the river and disappeared into the forest.

With his heart hammering in his chest, he tied the yarn around a tree root that protruded through the underbrush and ventured inwards. Thick splatters of blood marred the ground and the leaves until they grew into wet, glistening smears at the bases of a few trees. They twisted and turned until finally, Eren came across a matted lump that had been poorly hidden by the underbrush.

A few leaflets clung to the body of the deer, curling alongside the deep laceration that had dug into its abdomen. Blood wept from the wounds, long and unnervingly jagged, rancid enough to make Eren step back with a grimace.

He looked up and around at the trees that surrounded him. They stretched out into the patchy canopy, unmoving in the deafening silence that surrounded him, as suffocating as the corpse was. The hairs at the back of his neck stood, a chill clawing its way down his spine, but no matter where he cocked his head, he could see nothing but the insouciant void of the forest.

He looked down at the skein in his hands, carefully looping the yarn between two trembling fingers with each few steps that he took. The first thing he noticed was the considerable lack of resistance in the yarn - then, not too far from the corpse, he discovered the frayed remains of the yarn, a few threads of it hanging off the rough tree bark.

With blood rushing in his ears, he let out a breathless curse and searched fruitlessly for the remainder of the yarn. He was only met by the unrecognizable mass of trees and underbrush with each direction he stepped out towards. He rushed down where he thought he saw a smear of blood, his labored breaths lingering in his ears, his heartbeat louder than the leaves he crushed under his foot, until he heard a sharp rustle in the bushes next to him.

He abruptly stopped. There was nothing he could see in the void, nothing but the shadows of the trees and bushes, and distantly, he heard more rustling, growing further away with each passing second. It was deliberate, insistent, as if calling to him, urging him forwards. He took a hesitant step towards the sound.

It felt like hours, pressing one tentative foot past the other, slowly progressing towards the rustling of leaves that could be heard some ways ahead of him. It felt like an eternity, following whatever it was through the forest, never once coming near to it but also never falling far behind. He took a sharp turn, and soon, the low rush of water replaced the rustling.

Just before he reached the river, he spotted the yarn, stretching past the bushes and into the forest. He looked over his shoulder, again met by nothing, his ears picking up the faintest cries of wildlife that slowly started to melt back into the night. He let out an incredulous laugh.

* * *

"I don't know what to do anymore," Eren had told Armin from where he sat fixing a band-aid over his thigh on the couch. "It's like - every time I think I've figured it out, something else comes up to prove me wrong. It's killing me."

One thing that remained painfully unclear to Eren was whether this so-called legend was a physical entity or a spiritual one. It was an enigma, truly - the gashes, the corpse, the silhouette he saw near Armin's home, the contradictions in each telling of the legend. What was most infuriating was that he didn't even have a plan. He could only wonder, forever shrouded in a perpetual blanket of confusion, until he either gave up on the mystery or forgot it ever existed, just as he did when he left Shiganshina.

Armin had been in the kitchen that morning, rummaging around for a matching set of mugs, the strong scent of coffee lingering heavily in the air. He told Eren off-handedly, "All conventional methods are off the table, too. I mean, it's not like you can just catch the damn thing, right?"

It was meant to be a joke, Eren knew, but he still considered the idea.

* * *

The shopkeeper had been enthusiastic with his recommendations. He directed Eren over to a particularly low shelf nearby, fingers tracing the smooth edges of the trap slowly, delicately as he griped something about coyotes, about pests, about how to handle them. And Eren listened regardless, becoming increasingly impatient until he finally left some time later with a few traps and carefully worded directions on how to set them.

What was more infatuating than the mystery, Eren realized, was the idea of finally solving it once and for all. Part of him acknowledged that this was most likely a futile effort, and what he would catch would be nothing more than the prey that the hunters already frequently brought home. The other part of him lingered on the evidence that he had acquired, on the simultaneous thrill and dread that clung to him with each passing glance to the forest past sundown, and with some mild encouragement from Armin, he finally set out early one morning to execute his plan.

The sun had barely started to peek over the horizon, its weak rays of light coalescing with the clear sky to form a soft pink above him that disappeared behind the trees. He carefully navigated through the path until he came to the familiar bend that would lead him back to the river in just a few hours.

He set the traps sporadically on his way there, and when he was done, he followed the thin, gnarled path back to the river. At the end of the path, he could vaguely recognize the figure that sat at the edge of the water. It was somehow both a surprise and a welcome relief when he met with Levi, who was wearing the same oversized and paint-stained shirt as he was when they first met.

"Fancy meeting you here," Eren cheekily greeted.

At Levi's side, there was a paper bag that Eren recognized from the shop he visited a day prior. Levi pulled the bag closer to himself, sighing, "I live here, you brat."

"So," Eren started. "What've you got there?"

Levi gave him an exasperated look. "Stop being nosy."

"Yeah, and you looked through my camera, so I think it's a fair trade."

A small laugh left Levi's lips; it was gentler than the smooth stream of water that he had dipped his feet into, more breathtaking than the sunrise that accompanied Eren early that morning into the forest. Eren settled next to him, yearning to say anything and everything at once, but he instead lingered on the small smear of yellow that he caught along Levi's sharp jawline.

"It's paint," Levi said when he met Eren's eye. He tilted his head towards the bag. "For a project I'm thinking of starting on next."

"Oh? Something like. . . ?"

Levi glanced up towards the other side of the river. He answered wistfully, "A landscape, I think."

Eren followed his line of sight, focusing on the few rocks that protruded from the water. "What's your inspiration this time, then? The river?"

"No." He was quiet, tentative; a few moments passed by ever so slowly, and he finally said, "It's your eyes." Eren couldn't breathe, couldn't think when Levi admitted further, "I can see the forest in your eyes."

"My eyes. . . ." Eren repeated numbly.

He craved the feeling of Levi's lips pressed against his own, to perhaps reach out and run his fingers against the smooth, pale skin as if to prove that he was real. That he wasn't an enigma that Eren could only dream of, that he was somehow within Eren's reach. He drowned in the silver of Levi's eyes, and he could only stare, every word he could possibly utter refusing to leave the tip of his tongue.

Levi abruptly turned away. He pulled one foot out of the water, hooked his fingers over the threaded handle of his bag, and only then did Eren realize with a jump in his heart that he hadn't responded.

Before Levi could escape, before he could disappear into the forest with naught more than a whisper of the breeze, Eren said, "Wait, Levi -"

Levi's brow furrowed, more from confusion than from annoyance. He slowly settled back down onto the sand. "What do you want?"

Eren's breath caught in the back of his throat. He couldn't formulate any response, his only guilty admission tumbling out of his mouth, "I want to kiss you."

For the first time, Levi's countenance displayed more than the enigmatic mask that he had adopted. A helpless noise left Eren, and in the wake of silence between them, he caught himself and hurriedly said, "Wait, I'm - I didn't -" He peered into the water, struggling to find anything to focus on that wasn't Levi. "I'm sorry, I - I wasn't thinking -"

A warm, gentle touch at Eren's temple brought his stammering to a screeching halt. Levi's hand ghosted over his own as he pulled away just the slightest bit, voice low in Eren's ear as he murmured, "You talk too much."

* * *

"You know, I actually can't decide if your plan is dumb or not."

Eren looked up to where Armin was lounging against the couch, clutching a pillow over his chest. "You're supposed to support me." He placed a few bandages that he had set out on the table into his duffel bag. "I thought that was what best friends were for."

Armin didn't know if it was a blessing or a curse, bringing Eren to talk to Erwin that day at the library, but eventually, he gave in to the plan, albeit reluctantly. He stretched out and turned over, tucking the pillow under his chin, watching him pack his supplies away.

"I support you, but I'm still gonna call you dumb. That's what best friends are for. And anyways . . ." His voice faltered, and when Eren turned to address him, he carefully asked, "What're you gonna do if you find something?"

Truth be told, Eren hadn't thought about it. There was the undeniable allure of discovering what truly lay hidden in the forest, and what he saw the other night, hidden amongst the trees, dense and unmoving, did not dampen the urge the slightest bit. He didn't think he'd be able to ignore the whispers from the forest for very much longer, even if he hadn't taken an interest to begin with.

Eren slung the duffel bag over his shoulder, setting his hand over the pocket where he knew his camera lay. He settled with a heavy sigh, "I'll tell you all about it! Then you'll be morally and contractually obligated to give me a share of the profit when you write another book about it."

Armin rolled his eyes. There was still the gleam of worry on his face, in the furrow of his brow and the indent where he had been biting his lip, but he didn't protest any further.

* * *

The forest, as always, was as loud at night - if not louder - than it was during the day. It was soothing, encouraging, but even as they lulled and came to a gradual stop, Eren continued on. He didn't know how long he was out there for, stepping as carefully as he could past each obstruction of the path, focused only on the forest ahead of him before the cacophony finally ceased.

He had brought the lantern with him this time. It illuminated the path before him with a warm, honeyed glow, the heat of it melting through his gloves hand and seeping into his jacket. His skin prickled, the hairs at his nape standing, and against his better judgement, he looked over his shoulder. He was greeted by the insouciant void of the forest.

He knew, by the yarn that he had tied on a tree root close by, that the first of many traps he had set was nearby. He continued onwards, slowly, the biting urge to look over his shoulder and spot whatever it was that stalked him steadily becoming too unbearable to ignore. Some time passed with him progressing down the path, passing by another trap or two, and eventually, he started to consider it a failure. But, at the very least, it was entertaining when it lasted.

He stopped in his tracks. He lowered the lantern, looking up to the patchy canopy where the moon was hidden, and decided to head back. It was then, almost as if on cue, that he heard the unmistakable spring of the trap trigger and snap. Accompanying that was a strangled sound, somewhere between a shout and a yelp.

Eren's breath rattled in his chest, deafening in the yawning silence of the forest, and slowly, he turned to face where he heard the noise. His legs refused to move, eyes wide and incredulous, until he heard the rattle of a chain and the frantic shuffling against the underbrush. He cautiously stepped forward, uncertainty and anticipation pooling in his gut, and entered through the underbrush.

The lantern shed light upon the barely concealed line of string that he had pressed into the dirt and hidden amongst the leaves. He followed it to the small clearing hidden between two thick oak trees, the breath he didn't know he had been holding forcing its way out when he lifted the lantern to look into the clearing.

A familiar set of silver eyes glared up at him. They were bright, almost white, and in the lamplight, skin deathly pallid and tinted a warm yellow, Levi sat curled in the dirt. One leg was outstretched to accomodate for the trap that clamped around his ankle, the skin around it weeping a deep, ugly red. Eren caught the slight movement of Levi's hand retracting from where it had gripped the peg that the trap had been pinned to, something incredulous welling in his chest at the sight of thick, white claws.

Levi folded his arm inward, over his lap, while the other kept him upright. Black fur covered his hands and wrists, melting into a soft gray as it tapered off and disappeared just below his elbows. Neither of them moved, the world seemingly stuck on its axis, refusing to spin for even a moment as they merely stared. Eren was the first to move; he took a step forward, and his heart sped faster as Levi's pupils rapidly dilated. Levi's lip contorted back into a grimace, revealing pointed canines, a low growl reverberating from the back of his throat.

"Levi?"

He didn't respond. Eren took another slow, tentative step forward, some part of him alight with hope and yearning alike, but another harsh growl made him flinch back. Another eternity passed between them, the idle flicker of the flame in the lantern mesmerizing in a way.

Eren startled when he heard Levi say, "So?"

His brow furrowed. He ached to step forward, to speak, to scream, to do something, but he could only stay rooted where he stood. He swallowed thickly, mouth dry, and rasped, "What?"

"So?" Levi repeated, another low, clicking growl lacing his voice. "What happens now?"

His lip was still contorted back into a grimace, his eyes blown wide and glassy, as if he were an animal, caged and hopelessly cornered by a hunter. Eren vaguely realised that, in a way, he was an animal - an animal, a creature that had been hidden in the woods, leaving so many careless clues behind. A creature that had stalked Eren that night, and most likely every other night, never lingering too far behind.

Through the rush of blood in his ears, he managed to take a slow, tremulous breath. He tried softly, "Levi."

The fluffy ears atop Levi's head perked up at the name. Relief washed down his spine, lapped at the fear that still remained clinging to his shoulders, and he took another slow breath. The initial shock of the discovery hadn't faded yet; perhaps it would always be there, reinforced by the sight of tapered claws and sharpened teeth, but the gentle, enigmatic familiarity that was Levi would never fade.

He glanced downwards towards the trap again. His stomach sank at the sight of the sickening indent where metal met the ankle, the skin rapidly bruising under it. He opened his mouth, a helpless noise leaving him, and clicked it shut before trying again, but he couldn't speak past the tight clench of guilt that glued his throat shut.

"Levi, I . . ." Eren held his breath. "I didn't -" Weakly, he stepped forward, another growl ripping through the air, but he didn't dare shy away. "Let me - let me get you out of there, at least." He met Levi's eye, ensnared by the deep abyss that analyzed every movement, and whispered, "Please, Levi."

The grimace slipped right off his face, and in its stead was the same hopeless look of confusion as the one he wore when Eren admitted to wanting a kiss. He remained motionless when Eren approached him, eyes following every movement, naught but a soft grunt leaving him when Eren took a hold of the trap.

Eren fought to keep his hands steady. His heart pounded in his chest, his head spun, his breath caught in his throat, but nevertheless, he managed to disarm the trap. With one leg steadying the latch, Eren pulled the mouth open, and the moment the metal had parted from the skin, Levi scrambled away. He tried to rise to his feet, but he tripped and srambled back until he was pressed against a tree.

One of his ears twitched. While he had managed to maintain a relatively impassive expression, something bright and incredulous shone in his eyes. He breathlessly asked, "Why?"

Eren's brow furrowed. "Why what?"

Levi watched closely as Eren settled down against the dirt on his knees, bringing them back to eye level. He curled in on himself further, asking again, "Why did you let me go?"

"Why did I . . . ?" Eren trailed off, hopelessly lost. He gestured vaguely, the sudden action bringing the slightest curl to Levi's lip, and settled lamely, "Because it's - it's awful, Levi, it's . . ."

"Awful," Levi spat out lowly, "because we've met before, right? And somehow that's the only thing that makes this awful, isn't it, jackass?"

"That's not what I -" He cut himself off with a frustrated hiss. "Levi, look, I just - I don't know what I was expecting when I came out here, okay? All I knew was that there was something here, a creature or monster or whatever, and it would eat whoever entered the forest or some bullshit like that. Or at least that's what I thought I knew, but every single person I've talked to has a different story about it, and I didn't know what to believe anymore."

A breeze brushed past them. A few leaves skittered past, the branches high above them sighing as it passed. Eren spotted the tail that curled under one of Levi's legs, thick and hopelessly fluffy. Glancing back upwards, he could still see the hesitance that weighed Levi's shoulders, the blatant suspicion that melted into the air between them.

"I'm not here to - to expose you, or to catch you, or - or any of that. I just. . . . I'm sorry."

Eren averted his gaze towards the lantern, watching as the flame danced. He wished it wasn't so quiet. He wished he could hear something beyond his own steadily slowing heartbeat, beyond the whispers of the forest, beyond the twigs and leaves that crunched beneath him.

"I don't."

Eren glanced back upwards. Levi's face had softened, his eyes once again shining a stunning silver, and finally, Eren could let go. He could relax, take in Levi for what he was, and yearn, as he always did, to lean in and kiss him. He recognized the oversized shirt that Levi wore, the stains on them, how small he looked drowning in it, how perfect it was, and by God, Eren couldn't breathe.

He prompted eagerly, "You don't . . . ?"

"Eat people," Levi answered. There was an air of hilarity in his tone, as if it were the most ludicrous thing he could have been accused of. "That wasn't ever really my thing."

Eren edged closer, looking for any sign of discomfort, but Levi never gave him one. "So . . . what actually happens to the people who come here at night?"

"Usually, nothing." Levi rest back against the tree bark, head tilted back to reveal the smooth, tantalizing column of his throat, as if staring up at something that Eren could not hope to see. "I don't fuck with people. If they're lost, I get them to where they need to be. Whatever stupid-ass problems they get themselves into while they're here isn't my fault, either."

"So the nights I came here. Were you . . . ?" Levi's eyes flicked towards him, then quickly elsewhere, the discomfort in his demeanor strikingly guilty. Eren huffed, "You didn't have to be a creep about it, you know. You could have just walked with me."

Levi clenched his jaw. He asked, "Like this?"

There was a slight strain in his voice. Eren glanced back down to his forearms, the claws that rest gently in his lap, the tail that he could see peeking out from behind his leg, and he confidently answered, "Yeah. Just like that."

Eren later decided that the quick flash of Levi's canines in his smile was, by far, the most breathtaking smile he'd ever received.


End file.
